


Venus on Fire

by NinaFey



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Domesticity, F/F, Fluff, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 08:23:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4912276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinaFey/pseuds/NinaFey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Margot reflects on her relationship with Alana on a spring night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Venus on Fire

It was raining outside, a spring shower in the middle of the night. The smell of rain would mix with the newly blossomed lilacs and the air would be sweet in the morning. Margot glanced over at Alana, lying on a sofa going over a journal article. Her dark hair was pulled up in a high bun, her face was clean and bare, and lips were pressed together in concentration. The normalcy of the scene suddenly struck Margot, how easily they had both arrived at this point.  The decision to live together had been tacit, Alana carrying their unborn son had been implied. But that was the way things were with Alana, the biggest gestures were made to look small. It was a form of artistry, she thought, to able to condense such grand things into subtle essences.  Alana’s presence in her life felt as natural as flowers growing by a newly healed spring. Funny how something so good and true could have been born out of such violence. Margot knew that blood had never stained them, their hands had come out clean of the salt water that night many months ago and looking at Alana now she would never think of them as dirty.

When she first felt the fire growing inside her, Margot questioned what could have made her worthy of Alana. That had always been her first instinct, to question her right to anything, even when every part of her wanted to declare ownership. But how sure she was now, she’d never doubt anything again. This was probably what the faithful felt, this unwavering commitment and burning passion. God knows that they made each other speak in tongues many times over in their intimacy. Her entire life the god she was made to worship had been one of wrath, fire and hate, who’d condemn her to hell. Passages of this pillar of fire were engraved in her mind, like the taste of bad wine, try as hard she could Margot would never be rid of them. Three verses sprung into her mind, she remembered hearing them as a young girl at a wedding her family had been forced to attend: “Love isn’t selfish or quick tempered. It doesn’t keep a record of wrongs other do. Love rejoices in the truth, but not in evil. Love is always supportive, loyal, hopeful, and trusting.” For a long time she remembered believing it was the vilest lie in the book. Those who had claimed to love her had only hurt her, had only taken from her, and punished her. After a while, she had become living shell for the emptiness inside her, the concept of love simply did not exist. Alana had made a convert out of her; she’d smile smugly if those thoughts were ever made into words.

Alana would soon be called to testify in Hannibal’s trial, and Margot’s stomach grew uneasy as she remembered the promise he made to her before she cut him loose. It had been pragmatic, reckless, and stupidly brave, very much like Alana. How fierce she had looked when she had met his eye, Margot had half expected her to bare her teeth as she pulled the hairs from his scalp. There had been fury exploding behind Alana’s eyes when she held her as Margot sobbed with her still-born son in her hands. It had been as if the vengeful god of her childhood had met Venus, and she was there to exact passionate justice with her hand in hers. With the memory of Alana’s hand over hers, she knew this was theirs to safe-guard. What they had and what would come once their son was born needed to be protected, so that it could never be snatched way or be deemed worthless under any judging eye. Every available defence should be used to shield them all against the world.

“I think we should get married.” Margot stated softly, her gaze fixed on Alana.

“What was that?” Alana asked, looking up from her article. Her expression wasn’t dumbfounded, her concentration had merely been broken and the declaration had gone by unrecognized.

“I just said I think we should get married.” Margot moved to sit on the sofa next to her, pulling Alana’s feet on her lap. She watched Alana’s lips go from being pressed into a line thin line to curling up and finally parting into a grin.

“I think so too.” They met halfway to kiss. Alana brushed her lips against hers immediately after it had been broken. It was like both their essences had been distilled in a way only Alana had mastered.

“Good.” Margot couldn’t help but think how appropriate it was that the air would soon be filled with the scent of lilacs.

**Author's Note:**

> I've always thought proposals should be more organic. And I've always thought that while them getting married was an act of love, the legal benefits of marriage, especially in their situation, and their mutual desire to protect each other would play a bigger part than romantics. So this is the result of that, sort of.


End file.
